


The King and His Joker

by fanficfriends



Series: Session 2 [4]
Category: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter (2012), Glee
Genre: Abe is also like. the actual president btw. just in case u dont kno, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Glee Drabble Meme, Glee References, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, The Author Regrets Nothing, because gays, but only kind of, emma doesnt exist in this universe, im not homophobic but glee is because they didnt let will be the gay man he deserves to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25869406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficfriends/pseuds/fanficfriends
Summary: Will, the court jester, is called into King Abe’s private chambers for what turns out to be more than just a session of joke-telling.
Relationships: Will Schuester/Abraham Lincoln
Series: Session 2 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877158
Kudos: 2





	The King and His Joker

Will was a joker. 

He was not particularly funny. 

But he was the court jester and for some reason King Abe hadn’t decided to fire him yet. It was strange-- everyone else in the castle seemed to hate his jokes, but King Abe had never given him anything more than a sharp look. A smile, every now and then. So Will kept his job, no matter how bad he was at it. 

It was on a Tuesday night that King Abe called him into the private rooms-- he was lounging on the bed, with fluffed pillows and a duvet fit for the king he was. He had on only a robe and his trademark hat-- the one that made his cheekbones that much sharper and made that warm twist in Will’s gut even hotter. He didn’t wear a crown, no, he wore that tall, coal-black hat. (A/N: this is the canon compliant hat) 

“What can I do for you, my King?” Will asked, as formally as he could. 

Because of the Black Death (A/N: that’s a plague for anyone who’s too stupid to Google it) outside the castle walls, the King had needed more and more cheering up at strange times. With all of the reports of illnesses and deaths, he had been more stressed out than ever, and it was Will’s job to fix that. But still, he had never been called into his bedroom, and he had never been truly alone with the King. 

He was still standing in the doorway, hands behind his back. He had thrown his uniform on with too much haste, and his brown vest wasn’t buttoned all of the way. The jester’s hat he wore jingled as he stepped inside slowly, unsure how close King Abe wanted him to come. 

King Abe smiled at him, one of those rare smiles that Will was sure were only given to him. He could feel his cheeks flushing as King Abe wiggled a finger and beckoned him closer. There was a tension in the room that had never been there before, maybe coming from the fact that they were in his private chambers or that they were completely alone with the shades drawn and the doors closed or that the fold of King Abe’s robe was slipping farther down, revealing a porcelain chest. 

“Come closer, my clown,” King Abe said, and Will could do nothing but comply. Even if he wasn’t an upper level servant, he would have done anything that that raspy voice asked him to. 

Will swallowed as he walked closer, his heart beating in his throat. Was he finally about to get fired? But why would King Abe do it here, with that sultry smile and the hat casting a shadow over his face and-- 

“Tell me a joke,” King Abe requested. “I am in need of some cheering up.” 

“Um.” Will looked around the room, desperately trying to find something funny to joke about. There was nothing in the room that he could make fun of, though. There was so much gold and so much darkness. It was practically the dead of night, and Will’s brain was too foggy to think properly, especially when King Abe was looking at him like that. He looked over at the King-- meeting his eyes in the shadows. He had these fantastic orbs that glowed in the dark like cat’s eyes, like glass marbles spun over the dirt of the roads outside. 

“Did you hear the one about the ghosts who fell in love?” Will asked. 

King Abe stared at him, and Will felt that flush on his cheeks burn even hotter. “Ghosts aren’t real.” 

“Right,” Will said awkwardly. “It’s a joke, my King.” 

King Abe nodded thoughtfully. “Then I haven’t heard that one before. Continue, clown.” 

“It was, uh-- ” Will looked at him. King Abe was staring at him and he could have sworn that the King’s face was turning red, gaze turning from something relaxed to something hungry. “It was love at first fright!” (A/N: fuck you if you didn’t laugh) 

The King stared at him like he hadn’t heard, and Will looked away. That had probably been one of his worse jokes. Maybe the King would realize now that he was a terrible joker and he would get to go back to his room now. It was late, and he was tired, and the way that the King was positioned on the bed, his hat almost falling over his eyes as he leaned back against the headboard, one knee propped up so that the edge of the robe slipped down and-- 

“That was a terrible joke.” 

Will cut off his thoughts there. This was the king he was thinking about. Will was a clown. (A/N: so am I for writing this)

“Sorry.” 

“You don’t seem particularly sorry.” 

Will inhaled sharply. Here it was, here it came, the King was going to fire him. Will collapsed to his knees, starting to beg, if he didn’t get his forgiveness, he would never be redeemed, he would never get to look at the King in that way again. 

His knees hit the floor loud enough to bruise, and Will bit back a gasp. “My King, I’m sorry, please, my King-- ”

“You look good there,” King Abe interrupted. Will stared at the ground, heart in his throat, beating so loud that he could choke on it. “On your knees.” 

Will swallowed, his stomach flipping over like laundry did when it was churned around a well. He didn’t have anything to say to that, and even if he did, his mouth was dry and his tongue refused to move. 

“Get up,” King Abe commanded, and that order sent a shock through Will’s heart, like he’d been stabbed by some blunt knife and the blade was stuck there, between his ribs and in unnamed organs. (A/N: idk if they had organs back then but just go with it, ok? Don’t be a hater.) 

Will stood up slowly, bones creaking and his knees aching from sitting that way, though he didn’t mind it when there was that heat in the king’s cheeks. Will could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed tightly. 

“Tell me a joke,” King Abe said, and his voice was just as hard as before. “Make me laugh.” 

Will took a breath. “What do you call a magic owl?” 

“What?” King Abe asked eagerly, sitting up straighter. Maybe he did actually need a laugh. 

“HOO-dini,” Will said, grinning. He had a beautiful grin, all of his teeth a bright pearly white. He was a clown but he still took care of his teeth. The butt chin he had been made fun for in his childhood was masked in the darkness, and the greased curls of hair were covered by the jingling three-pointed hat, but he still had that smile to die for. 

“I don’t get it,” King Abe said, disappointed. 

Will’s heart sunk. He had never really felt this way before, but disappointing King Abe was heartbreaking. He felt the shame rise in his throat. “I don’t get it either. It was just one some guy told me once. I think he was making fun of me.” 

“Who was he?” King Abe asked, frowning. “No one should make fun of you. That’s a proclamation. An executive order. I demand it.” 

Will blinked, staring at him. Again, their eyes met in the darkness, and Will felt an electric shock run through him. “Oh.” 

King Abe nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Sit down, Will.” 

Will, King Abe had called him. No one had called him that before. Will. 

To everyone in the castle, whether servant or lord or queen (A/N: idk where the queen is, she doesn’t matter, it’s all about homosexuals here), Will was just called “clown” or “joker” or “fool.” He didn’t even realize that King Abe knew his name. 

“Sit down,” King Abe said again, and Will realized he hadn’t moved in a few minutes. He sat down on the bed where King Abe had pointed to, sinking into the soft down of the mattress. King Abe had to be the only one in the country to have a mattress like this, and Will found himself wondering what he would have to do to sleep here (A/N: he’ll find out soon, winky face). 

“I like you, Will.” King Abe stared at him. There was no question in his voice or in his eyes. “I want you to tell me jokes all of the time.” 

“I can do that,” Will said, barely a whisper. He coughed, clearing his throat, and repeated. “I can do that.” 

King Abe frowned. “You’re not sick, are you? I have the best doctors in the world, Will, if you have, you know-- ”

“I don’t,” Will said, his voice soft, barely a breeze in the darkness. 

The Black Death wasn’t a topic that anyone in the castle liked talking about, not when it had forced them all into quarantine in the castle. It was terrible to think about all of the people in the town who were dying, but the worst part was that it kept anyone in the castle from leaving. 

They were all stuck here, and for Will, stuck in this castle with the King who made him feel like that was torture. He saw the King every day, sinking further and further into his feelings while telling terrible jokes that were even more of a disappointment than the pandemic outside the castle walls. (A/N: i didn’t mean to make this relevant irl lol sry) 

“You just make me nervous,” Will finally admitted. If he was going to do this-- sit in the King’s private chambers while locked in the castle with him-- he was going to do it all of the way. 

King Abe took a breath, and something changed in his face. Will wasn’t sure if it was relief or nervousness or something akin to… fondness? 

“Is it just because I’m king?” he asked quietly. “Is that why?” 

Will shook his head, but he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to answer the question with the full truth. If he said the real reason, King Abe would have even more reason to fire him and imprison him or kick him out to the streets. 

“It’s just because it’s you,” Will muttered, mustering up what bravery he could. Don’t stop believing, he told himself, something might come of this. “You’re beautiful, my King. It makes me nervous.” 

“Beautiful,” King Abe echoed. He looked at Will, who had glanced away. “You think I’m beautiful.” 

“It’s your voice,” Will said, looking up. “The way you give your speeches. The way you wear your hat. They call you Old Mister Lincoln but you look so youthful when you smile. How sharp your cheekbones are, almost hollow, and the little beard. The way you wear your bow tie at formal meetings, so tight against your throat. I want to touch you and-- ”

Will stopped. He looked at King Abe, who had a horrified kind of expression and Will knew that he had gone too far. “My apologies, my King.” 

There was silence, and Will felt his heart crack into pieces in the same way a wagon would crack when driven off a canyon or into a tree. Then, King Abe did something that Will would never have expected: he kissed him. 

It was everything that Will had ever dreamed of and more, and he had dreamed of this plenty. 

King Abe’s lips were soft and cold and wet, and Will hungered for more. King Abe’s bit his bottom lip softly, asking for entrance, and Will opened his mouth. King Abe opened his own mouth and their tongues began to battle for dominance, fighting it out in Will’s mouth like snakes. King Abe was strong but kind and Will sank into the kiss, letting the King take direction. 

King Abe sat up, leaning closer to Will, their mouths never parting even as Will began to fall breathless in his arms. Will fell backwards onto the bed, losing his balance as King Abe towered over him. His hat had fallen off and when Will opened his eyes he could see tufts of wild hair fall loose, similar curls to his own, and he lost all semblance of control. 

Was this really happening? After all of those years pining in the castle, the dirt shoved in his locker in the entertainment dressing rooms, being called a loser by head of security, Sue Sylvester (A/N: if you don’t know who that is, get out)? After all of that, he was kissing the King? Maybe, Will thought, the king is a loser like me. 

King Abe didn’t seem to notice Will’s momentary lapse in judgement, just pushing harder as he straddled Will’s hips to her a better angle at kissing him. It was then that Will remembered that the King was only wearing a robe, and Will could feel his throbbing member against his waist. It made something rise up in Will that he had never felt before. 

Will’s heart must have stopped halfway through the kiss, but when King Abe pulled back to look at him, he found all his breath again. 

“My King,” Will whispered. “Is this a joke?” 

King Abe shook his head, his thin lips pulled up into a smirk. “Jokes are kind of your specialty, my clown.” 

“I’m not very good at them,” Will admitted, but he didn’t really care much about that when he was looking at King Abe and the way his hair had tangled where Will had threaded his fingers through it and the way that a hot desire was evident in his face. 

“I don’t care,” King Abe said, and he kissed him again. He peppered kissed around Will’s neck, up to his cheeks, making his way to his eyelids, which fluttered closed to allow the soft press of lips against them. 

Will inhaled sharply, and King Abe moved to push their mouths together again, and they fit perfectly. Will had never had a better kiss, had never had a better moment, had never loved anyone more than he did at that very moment. The bells at his hat were jingling as King Abe pressed closer to him, his hands at Will’s cheeks. 

“I’m in love with you,” King Abe whispered into Will’s mouth, and Will ate up the words like a starving, breathless man. “You know that?” 

“I do now,” Will whispered, with pure glee in his voice. “I do now.”


End file.
